


Inhibition and Iniquities

by wastedgray



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastedgray/pseuds/wastedgray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little 5x03 drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inhibition and Iniquities

The last thirty minutes of Castiel’s life seemed to pass in a bit of a blur. Which is weird, considering how clearly he can remember the past two millennia.

He remembered sitting in that dirty abandoned house, a wooden chair digging uncomfortably into his lower back as he was trying to enjoy his “last night on earth” peacefully and quietly. Apparently those two particular words didn’t apply to Dean Winchester.

Before he knew it, he found himself in one of the most unholy places on the earth.  This whole part of town was crawling with not the most blessed of people to begin with, but this place was something else entirely. He heard sinful laughter from around the room, from men not too much older than Dean and his vessel. He could smell the alcohol and body odor from other patrons practically radiating from the leather seat behind him. How many times a week did they even tidy this place? They are lucky enough to have such poor lighting, to make up for the lack of cleanliness.

 He was anxious, shaking, perspiring, panting and maybe even crying a little. Why should he be so nervous? They were just human bodies. Very scantily clad human bodies at that but nothing he’s never seen before. He sucked in a breath and knew that it wasn’t the girls who were the cause of his current case of nausea, (and it certainly wasn’t the food, which he dared not even touch) it was the Winchester boy lounging coolly in front of him, a mischievous grin on his face. Of course he was having a good time. He really should be nicer to the one that dragged him out of the pit, and not repay him by forcibly hauling him into a…what did Dean call it? Ah yes, a _Gentlemen_ ’ _s_ club.

“Hey, relax” Dean insists.

Cas does not relax. “This is a den of inequity.” He breathes, “I should not be here.”

Dean rolls his eyes in a way that was just so very Dean, it made the angel feel even worse.

“Dude you full on rebelled against heaven. Inequity is one of the perks.” 

Cas did not relax. If anything he was getting even worse.

Why did Dean have to bring him here, of all places? Maybe if the hunter actually attended high school English class way back when, he would have a better capability to “read between the lines”; utilize his power of inference and realize that when Castiel said he was virgin, he meant that he wanted to stay that way. He stiffened when he saw a pretty, young girl in a disconcertingly promiscuous outfit approach their table. He looked over at Dean, whose smug smile returned full throttle. Damn him. 

“Show time” the hunter grinned, coolly taking a sip from his beer. Castiel’s throat went dry. 

“Hi. What’s your name?” asked the blonde, charming and seductive. 

If he was in his right mind he would make a break for the door and run as far as Jimmy Novak’s legs could carry him. But the look on Dean’s smooth, crass face glued him to his seat. It’s the eyes, Cas thought. Those deep, otherworldly Winchester eyes proved to be a great distraction, and a bit of an abomination. They could tear heaven apart, and certainly convince Castiel to do anything Dean so desired. Why else was he here after all? It made Dean happy. It was making him smile. His true smile. The one that Castiel has never seen up close, and the one that he would give anything to be the cause of.

His eyes scanned up and down the young lady (she must have been a little girl not too long ago, he wondered what her mother must think of her, seeing how her father had left when she was small) and swallowed harshly. He looked over at Dean, who was still taking a sip of his drink, looking keener than ever.

“Cas.” Dean said after a good few seconds of silence from the angel. “His name’s Cas. What’s your name?” He said sweetly.

The girl flipped her hair and smiled, “Chastity.”

He sort of blacked out after that. He remembered Dean shoving money in his face and mentioning something about not ordering off the menu (though he thought he made it clear that he was _not_ touching the food they served) and then being brutally hit in the face by poor Chastity. His sympathy for her absent father only grew so far, seeing how she had a rather impressive right hook that met square with Castiel’s cheek. He remembers Dean’s concerned look as he heard the girl scream, not concerned for her he might point out, but for Cas. He knew she was unharmed, because he knew that Cas wouldn’t hurt her.

The thing he remembers most about that blurry night is running through white stairwells, tiled corridors and back alleys. He could have been running from hellhounds, vampires, demons, he could have even been running from God. It didn’t matter what was behind him, only that Dean was beside him. They were lucky enough to chased by only relatively overweight strip club security guards, not something worthy of hell mind you, but a night dweller all the same.

There was a moment when they were both sprinting down stairs, jumping three at a time, Cas’s coat whipping in the wake he created, and Dean’s baritone laughter echoing through the ghostly white halls. Time seemed to slow down. Castiel thought of the many times Dean has done this; running until his lungs burned and loving every second of it. Normally it was Sam trailing closely behind him, but this time it was Cas. He was jealous for moment, of Sam, for being his brother and being number one on Dean’s priority list. But he wasn’t here now was he? Dean let him walk away, and now he was laughing, running from danger without his baby brother ever-present at his side.

This time, it was Castiel. Castiel who was running with him. Castiel with whom he was sharing his laughter. And Castiel who he gave a little smile over his shoulder while hopping down another flight of stairs. It was not the same kind of smile he gave to Chastity earlier that night, it was so, so much better. It was real. It was beautiful. And it damn near took the wind right out of him.

He stopped running leaned his weight on a banister, watching Dean go three paces in front of him before turning back. “What are you doing? Cas, come on let’s go!”

“Dean I have to tell you something…” He said through staggered breaths. In that moment he needed to tell him that he was everything: That he was a leader, a fighter, and strong enough to face any adversary, even the devil himself. That he was beautiful, and kind and wise. That from the day he was born he was special and that he’ll always deserve to be saved. And Castiel will always be there to save him.

He needed him to know that he was an idiot sometimes, that he could get himself, or the people he loved hurt if he didn’t smarten up. He needed to say that it was a stupid idea to take him to a strip club, and that it probably wasn’t Castiel’s last night on earth, but if it really was he was so grateful to have spent it with Dean Winchester. He needed to let him know that he loved him, that he’s always loved him and probably always will. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words never came. Maybe it was the fact that he was out of breath and could barely say anything, maybe it was those gorgeous eyes distracting him again or maybe it was Castiel’s fear of failure, of rejection. His fear that Dean will not accept his love, and will never want to see him again. Whatever it was, the words wouldn’t come. He meant to start again but his mouth quickly closed when Dean wrapped a hand around his tie and pulled with all his strength.

“Save it.” Dean said before breaking into a run, pulling Cas along with him. “We have to go.”

So Castiel let himself be pulled, he let himself be dragged, as it would make no difference. He would always follow Dean. It might lead him to his death, to hell or to a miscellany of strip joints along the way but he will always follow. Because he found a place in this soulless, mortal world. He found it right beside Dean. 


End file.
